


Sticky Love

by MsBrightsideSH



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bossy!Arthur, Donuts, Food Sex, M/M, hairtrigger!Eames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7806217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBrightsideSH/pseuds/MsBrightsideSH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur really has a sweet tooth, and Eames needs to learn to share.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticky Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mycitruspocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycitruspocket/gifts), [hooptedoodle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hooptedoodle/gifts), [kate_the_reader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/gifts).



> This was written entirely on my phone last night, after a rather inspiring conversation about lovely food that mycitruspocket ate, and whether Arthur or Eames would be more likely to eat it. Darlings, this is for you :*

“Finally,” Eames sighed and threw his bag onto the bed in their hotel room.

Arthur looked up, surprised. They had been to lots of hotels lately, working back to back jobs, first in Rio, then in Rome, and they had all been more or less equal to this one. His eyebrows shot up even further when Eames added “Back in the States.”

“Eames, are you all right?” Arthur asked, only half mocking. “You hate the States.”

“No, I don't,” Eames protested immediately. “Fine, maybe a little bit,” he admitted when Arthur just looked at him. “But, it's the States, Arthur. Land of impossible possibilities!”

“If this is about having a threesome with a hooker again,” Arthur started, with narrowed eyes, but Eames shook his head, smiling. “Not this time, Darling,” he said, with an undertone that made Arthur suspect that Eames knew exactly that Arthur knew exactly that both of them were entirely too possesive to seriously contemplate a threesome.

“What else could you mean?” Arthur mused, playful to mask his curiosity.

“Donuts!” Eames exclaimed.

“Donuts?” Arthur repeated, disbelieving.

“The reason that you're glad to be back in the States is donuts?”

“So it would seem,” Eames agreed cheerfully. “In fact, I shall go and obtain one of the little buggers right this second. Would you like one as well?”

Arthur snorted. “No, thank you. I'll unpack and then check whether Jefferson has sent the mark’s details yet.”

“Oh, come on, Petal, take a break. You've been working for weeks on end!”

“I don't even like donuts,” Arthur said. That was kind of a lie, but so far, he was relatively sure that he'd successfully concealed just how much of a sweet tooth he had. It just didn't seem like information that would do anything for his reputation as a ruthless, well organized and occasionally deadly dreamthief.

Eames shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He blew Arthur a kiss, because Eames did ridiculous things like that and managed to make them look perfectly natural, then went out the door.

Arthur busied himself with unpacking the necessary equipment for the next few days, then booted up his laptop to check on the information Jefferson had sent. Well, had been supposed to send, because Arthur's inbox was empty. With nothing to work on, he realized all of a sudden how hungry he was. Room service didn't sound very appealing, but before Arthur could decide what he was in the mood for, the door opened and Eames stepped inside, clutching a greasy paper bag. 

He smiled at Arthur and sat down on the bed heavily, toeing off his shoes before he tore open the bag. What he pulled out was the biggest donut Arthur had ever seen. It was fat and golden, the top covered in shiny chocolate glaze and lightly toasted coconut sprinkles. 

Arthur licked his lips involuntarily. “So, what kind did you get?” he asked off-handedly, eyes fixed on his screen. 

“Chocolate with peanutbutter, coconut mousse and honey,” Eames replied. “It was called dreamteam, I simply had to take it, didn't I?” 

Arthur didn't dignify that with an answer. Maybe he was also a tiny bit scared that he might drool if he opened his mouth. He could hear Eames take a bite, could hear him lick his lips, could smell the heady scent of chocolate. His stomach growled. 

Eames swallowed audibly, then chuckled. “Hungry after all, Darling?”

“Maybe," Arthur admitted grudgingly, giving up his pretense of working. He got up and walked over to Eames, already reaching out a hand, but Eames pulled the donut away and shook his head.

“I don't think so, love. You said you didn't like donuts.” 

Arthur looked at Eames, incredulous. “Could I have a bite of that donut. Please?”

Eames shook his head. “You'll have to think of something better than that, really Arthur.” 

Arthur scowled at him, of half a mind to just walk away, but the donut smelled so good. He leaned forward slightly, to kiss Eames on the mouth and reach for the donut with the other hand. Eames pulled the bag away, but leaned into the kiss, so Arthur managed to snatch at the sweet and get a palm full of chocolate glaze and sprinkles. Eames jerked away from him, causing Arthur to smear his hard-won treasure all over Eames' chin. Eames laughed, gleeful at Arthur's failure, but Arthur just leaned back in and licked.

It tasted so good that it took Arthur a second to realize that Eames had gone all still and made little humming sounds.

“Think of something better, huh?” Arthur whispered into Eames ear, grabbing for the donut again. “Seems I’ve found something.” 

He pushed lightly at Eames chest with his clean hand, smearing chocolate onto Eames' neck with the other. Eames went down slowly until he was completely stretched out. 

Arthur took a second to straddle him, then started to suck Eames' neck clean again. He also started to flick Eames’ shirt buttons open. When the shirt was out of the way and the skin under Arthur's tongue tasted of skin instead of chocolate, he settled back. 

“Give me the donut, Eames,” he said, quiet, commanding. To his surprise and satisfaction, Eames did.

Arthur took it and bit off a big piece, chewing slowly. He swallowed. “I don't know,” he mock-mused. “I think I liked it better when it tasted of you as well.” 

Before he could think better of it, he broke off a big piece and just mashed it into Eames' chest. The different fillings ran together in an almost swirl, with crumbs scattered all around in Eames' chest hair. 

“You look delicious,” Arthur breathed. Eames shivered, eyes closed and Arthur went about the task of cleaning him again, with lips and tongue.

It was stickier than he expected, and he knew he had to be pulling on Eames’ chest hair rather painfully, but Eames didn't complain.

Far from it, actually, he writhed and moaned quietly, pushing up into Arthur's mouth.

“You taste delicious as well,” Arthur murmured against the warm, wet skin, breaking of another piece of sweet pastry. This time, he mashed the piece in his palm, dipping his fingers into the mess to draw patterns on Eames skin, feeding him a few crumbs occasionally. Eames licked Arthur's fingers clean with reverence, still silent except for the breathy moans he seemed to have no control over. 

“See, sharing isn't actually so hard. You're doing so well,” Arthur praised, pressing another bit of donut into Eames' belly button and immediately using his tongue to extract it. 

He could feel Eames' cock, pressing up desperately against the fabric of his pants. Arthur placed the rest of the donut on Eames' abdomen and opened the zip slowly. 

As usual, Eames wasn't wearing anything underneath. “Mmh, this is the part of you I love to taste the most,” Arthur murmured, appalled by his own cheesiness. It worked, though. Eames was hard, a bead of wetness already glistening at the tip. 

Arthur cradled his balls with sticky fingers and before he could do more than lick a line up Eames' shaft with increasing pressure, Eames came, just like that, all over his stomach, onto the glistening trails Arthur's tongue had left - and onto the last piece of donut. It seemed only right. 

“Look at that,” Arthur half whispered, half commanded. He showed Eames where the slightly melted glaze ran together with Eames' spunk. Before Eames could get out a single word, Arthur had popped it into his own mouth. He laughed at Eames' incredulous stare. “Pity they don't make those donuts in the stores,”

Eames continued to look at him, eyes hooded and full of wonder.

“Arthur,” he eventually managed. “I had no idea you were this filthy.” Then he grimaced and looked down at himself. “It would seem it rubs off.”

“Luckily,” Arthur said, got up and offered Eames a hand, “the United States is such a remarkable place that we don't only have donuts. We have showers as well.” He pulled Eames to his feet and kissed him, slow and languid and still sticky-sweet. “Let's get you cleaned up.”


End file.
